Filling the Gaps
by Lisa-la
Summary: An exhausted, stressed-out Scott loses sight of the big picture for a bit, and it takes a near disaster and help from all his brothers to set him right.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: A while ago, I was looking around for stories from some of my childhood fandoms, from before I knew what a fandom was, and I came across cathrl's excellent Battle of the Planets series. Mixed in there were a couple of crossovers with Thunderbirds, and I thought, "The one with the puppets? Really?" But in the end, I couldn't resist, and suddenly I had a new fandom. And I started reading everything I could find - as you do - and that eventually led to writing this. So basically, if you're writing in this fandom, this is your fault. :-)

There is a scene in the last chapter that was inspired but lenle-g's art, which she had graciously consented for me to use. Since I can't post the full link here, you can hop over to her Tumblr and look for post/120099373835/i-for-one-am-glad-youre-safe-allie-you-had, you can check it out there.

XxXxX

Filling the Gaps

"Any life signs yet, John?"

Negative, Thunderbird One; I'm still scanning, though."

Scott Tracy looked around the hillside he was perched atop, checking the status of his younger brothers as he did. The mudslide that had destroyed this village in the Chinese hinterlands had been messy, and very little of the familiar iR blue was visible.

Behind him was a plateau of sorts, and Thunderbirds One and Two were both parked well back from the edge, beyond the half of the village that hadn't disappeared after recent torrential rains. In front of him, a sheer drop of mud, toppled trees, and the wreckage of people's lives and homes, leading down to a ravine that was filling with a river rapidly approaching flood stage.

About thirty yards to his right, Virgil was manning Gordon's line as the younger brother searched the remains of houses in the debris field below them. Scott was doing much the same for Alan's line. He knew Virgil and Gordon – and probably John – were still angry with him, but it was good to see that it didn't affect their dedication to their work.

There had been an argument on the way here. This was their sixth rescue in two days, and they were all exhausted. When the call came in while they were packing up from a wildfire in the Amazon, Virgil and John had strongly suggested that the team was too worn out to function safely; Scott had insisted that they respond anyway. Some of the villagers were missing, and the situation was beyond the capabilities of local authorities. And International Rescue had no one else to send. Kayo was off helping Lady Penelope with some spy-ninja thing. Even Brains and Grandma were away from Tracy Island right now; their inventor was at a robotics conference in Tokyo, and Grandma was at her class reunion in Kansas. Only Max the robot was still at home, and he could hardly handle a rescue. So, the brothers had to respond, regardless of their current mental and physical states.

A brief pop of static announced John's next broadcast, and Scott could hear the frustration in his middle brother's voice.

"International Rescue, local authorities are now advising that all villagers are accounted for. You can break off the search and pull out."

There was a burst of profanity across the channel, and Scott automatically responded.

"Language, Gordon. Thanks, John. What's the next mission?"

There was a pause. "Um, looks like we're good, Scott. Nothing that needs our attention."

"Are you sure?" They had been at it for so long that the lack of a pending rescue left him at something of a loss - but if John was holding something back …

"Yes. And if there were –" John's sigh could be heard even from his position in orbit. "Scott, we have got to stand down before we start doing more harm than good."

"We've reached our limit, Scott," Virgil added. "Somebody's going to get hurt."

Scott brought a hand up to rub his face, and only then remembered that he was still wearing his helmet. And that right there might be a sign that he was too tired to keep working.

"Okay, guys," he conceded. "Let's pack up and go home."

Below him, his youngest brother, Alan, scrambled into view from the pile of rubble he'd been searching and waved his readiness to be brought up. Waving back, Scott began taking up slack as Alan started climbing. Scott started letting his mind wander to the hot shower and soft bed that were finally on the horizon; and before he knew it, Alan was almost within reach.

And that was the moment the hillside collapsed beneath them.

He reached desperately for Alan as he slipped, his vision tunneling down to the boy's startled blue eyes locked on his own. His gloved fingers caught Alan's – and then lost them, and he was watching his brother tumble away from him, yanking the safety line out of Scott's grasp and taking the fencepost it had been anchored to with it.

Somehow, Scott managed to dodge the post as it shot by. Sliding, he started frantically kicking his feet, his arms flailing for purchase on the hillside which had turned to liquid beneath him. Then something abruptly caught his left arm just below the shoulder, yanking him up. Something else caught him on the right, and he was pulled back onto solid ground. He could hear both Virgil and Gordon yelling, as if from far away, but he couldn't make sense of it until a hand grabbed his helmet, turned his head, and brought him face-to-face with Virgil.

"Scott!" the pilot shouted urgently, giving him a shake. "Hey! Are you with me?"

He knew he should take charge; someone needed rescue. _Alan_ needed rescue. But he couldn't think …

"Virg," he whispered, turning to look at the empty space where his youngest brother had just been. "Virgil – Allie …"

Virgil swore under his breath, then looked past Scott to Gordon.

"Gordon, grab the rest of our gear and get set up on Two. We'll send you down to prep him and pull you both up with the winch."

"FAB," Gordon replied, and Scott felt the comforting squeeze on his shoulder as the aquanaut rose and left.

Virgil tapped the comms badge on his sash. "John, please tell me –"

"He's alive, but his suit must be damaged. His bio-readings are all over the place: I've got a pulse, but no BP, and his temp is reading off the charts. His comms are down, too. I don't think we'll know how he is until you get to him."

"Okay. Monitor stability on this hillside; we're going in to extract him." Lowering his voice, he turned back to his older brother.

"How you doing, there, Scooter?"

Scott, by now, was beginning to recognize the symptoms of shock in himself, but couldn't seem to pull himself out of it. Shaking his head, he drew a deep breath, let it out, and pulled his eyes away from Alan's huddled form on the hill below them.

"I'll manage."

"Good," Virgil replied, and rose, pulling Scott up with him. "Let's go get Allie."


	2. Chapter 2

On board Thunderbird Two, Gordon was double-checking his own harness and the winch, while mentally running through how he should proceed. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen Scott so rattled, and a part of him that he wasn't too proud of was annoyed with his oldest brother. Alan needed them, and they needed their leader.

When Scott and Virgil entered the cargo bay, Gordon gave his oldest brother an assessing glance. Scott still seemed pretty rocky, but when Gordon shot a look at Virgil, he got a confirming nod, so he went back to work.

"Thunderbird Five, you have anything on Alan yet?" Virgil asked, and John's reply echoed in the large bay.

"Negative. EOS is trying to clear the interference, but it's pretty much all on that end. I am worried about that hillside, though. It won't take much to start it sliding again. Al's about halfway down, hung up on some kind of debris." Virgil and Gordon both glanced at Scott for direction, mostly out of habit; when their field commander didn't speak up, Virgil took a steadying breath and took charge.

"All right, here's what I'm thinking: We send Gordon down, but keep the basket up here until he's had a chance to assess the situation. I don't want to put more weight out there than we have to. Scott, you man the winch, and I'll keep us steady and high enough that exhaust shouldn't be a problem. Sound good?"

"FAB," Gordon replied, and Scott nodded, looking slightly steadier now that there was a plan, though he still avoided eye contact with his brothers.

In a few minutes, Gordon found himself dangling below Thunderbird Two, being slowly lowered to the prone form of his younger brother. Not knowing how much the others could see, he kept up a running commentary over the open channel.

"Almost there … man, he's completely wrapped up in his own line – that'll take some work. He's hung up on some kind of rock … Hey! I've got movement! He's moving!"

Scott's worried voice echoed in his helmet. "Try to keep him still, Gordon."

"I know," Gordon muttered, as his feet finally touched down just below Alan. "Okay, I'm down. Give me some slack, Scott."

Once he had enough line to maneuver, he scrambled up to his brother, fighting against the shifting mud under his feet.

Alan was laying on his right side, wrapped around what appeared to be the tip of a boulder sticking up out of the mud and completely entangled in his own safety line. When Gordon leaned closer to peer into his face mask, he was relieved to find Alan blinking blearily back at him.

"Hey, bro," he breathed, resting a hand on the side of Alan's helmet, and trying for a reassuring smile. "How're you doing?"

"Gordon?" Alan squeaked. "Gordy, I don't feel good."

"Well, yeah. Leave it to you to land on the only solid object in a hundred-meter radius." Checking carefully for broken bones, he addressed the brothers waiting above.

"Guys, there's no way I can get him into a basket without bringing the whole hill down. I'm going to cut him loose from his line and clip him into my harness."

"How is he?" Virgil asked.

"I don't think anything's broken, but respiration's fast and shallow, pupils are dilated – he's definitely going into shock. I need to get him out of this cold mu – Whoa! Stay still, Allie!" He scrambled to get hold of his brother as Alan suddenly tried to sit up, and the mud shifted ominously beneath them.

"No! Scott!" Alan gasped. "He fell! Gordy, he fell! You have to –"

"No, Allie, Scott's fine," Gordon countered, finally catching his brother's shoulders. "Scott's okay! He's waiting for us on Two. Just settle down."

"He's okay?" Alan whispered, sagging in his brother's grip. "Really?"

"Would I lie to you, Al? About something like this?"

Alan blinked twice, then shook his head slowly. "I thought …" he began, but then seemed to lose his train of thought.

"It's okay, Bud," Gordon murmured, giving the boy's shoulders a gentle squeeze. "Let's get you untangled and get out of here, huh?"

In other circumstances, getting his brother loose from what seemed like miles of rope on a slippery hillside, with little to no help from said brother, would have struck Gordon as wildly hilarious. As it was, he was too focused on working quickly and efficiently to appreciate the humor. It was several long minutes before he was sure he'd cut everything that needed to be cut; and he stowed his knife before rapping gently on Alan's helmet to regain his attention.

"Hey, you with me?" He got a tight, shaky nod in response. The last few minutes had clearly been no fun for Alan, either. "Okay. We're going to sit you up enough to clip your harness to mine. Then we're out of here. Got it?"

"Yeah."

"Allie –" he paused. "I'm sorry, buddy, but this is probably going to hurt."

"S'okay," Alan breathed. "Wanna go home."

Gordon leaned forward to press his helmet against Alan's. "Yeah, me too."

He made quick work of clipping them together, trying hard to ignore Alan's muted whimpers as they shifted around. Once he was certain they were secure, he put an arm around his brother's shoulders and looked up to the great green shadow above them.

"We're all set," he called over the comm. "Take up slack, Scott."

As soon as Virgil's screen indicated that all his brothers were aboard, he swung TB2 around and took her back to her previous position beside TB1 on the far side of the evacuated village. Leaving most systems up and running, he pushed out of the pilot's seat and made a beeline for the tiny medbay.

Alan was already on the treatment bed, looking small and alarmingly still. Gordon was rapidly removing Alan's uniform with a set of cutters, while apprehensively keeping an eye on Scott, who was trying to set up an IV with hands that were once again trembling.

Nodding reassurance to Gordon, Virgil put a hand on Scott's shoulder, pretending not to notice when his older brother jumped at his touch.

"Hey," he said gently, "Why don't you let me do that?"

Scott immediately backed away from the bed, handing off the catheter and tubing to Virgil; and Gordon spoke up.

"Scott, why don't you take over getting his uniform off? I can start with the scanner."

There was a flash of irritation on Scott's face – he clearly knew he was being _handled_ – but it was gone in an instant, and he accepted the cutters without comment. Virgil looked across at Gordon.

"How long has he been out?"

"We were about halfway up when he shut down on me."

Virgil concentrated on getting the IV set up and running, only peripherally aware of his brothers working around him until the scanner chimed with its results and they all looked to the holographic display above the bed.

"Whoa," Gordon breathed. "Is that even right?"

Virgil took a moment to digest the reading before he slowly replied.

"Huh. Looks like it. I guess the suit took most of the damage. He's still shocky, and there's some pretty deep bruising. Looks like he may have cracked a rib or two. He's definitely going to feel it tomorrow, but it could have been a lot worse."

Gordon huffed out a laugh. "Alan, you lucky little …."

"Why isn't he awake?" Scott demanded, clearly not ready to be relieved yet.

As if in answer, Alan abruptly drew a deeper breath, scrunching up his face and blinking at the discomfort the movement was clearly causing.

Virgil smiled. "Guess he just wanted to make a dramatic entrance." He ran a hand through their patient's hair.

"Allie, you back with us?"

"Virgil?" the boy breathed. "Ow." His left hand started to drift across to his right side, but Virgil gently intercepted him.

"Yeah, we'll take care of that in a minute, and then we'll be headed home. Gordy, you want to grab a blanket from the locker?"

Gordon headed for the cabinet behind him, but when Scott hesitantly spoke up, he pulled up in surprise.

"Well, I – I guess you guys have this under control. I'm, uh, I'm gonna go pre-flight my 'bird."

"What?" Gordon snapped, but Virgil cut him off.

"Scott –"he began; but Scott met his eyes briefly before looking away, and Virgil suddenly realized that Scott was still just barely holding it together, and he knew his older brother wouldn't let whatever was getting to him out while the youngest brothers were here. Virgil abandoned whatever he had been about to say, and instead gave his older brother a small nod of understanding.

"Are you okay to fly?" When Scott nodded, shooting him a thankful glance as he did, Virgil knew this was the right call. "Okay. See you at home." Once Scott was out of the medbay – and out of earshot – Virgil tapped his comms badge to open a private channel to TB5.

"John, did you get that?"

"Yeah. We'll keep an eye on him. And Virg?"

"Yeah?"

"Set another place for dinner. I'm coming down."

Virgil hadn't realized how much he was dreading being the sole caregiver for an injured brother, an apparently traumatized brother, and – from the look on Gordon's face – a seriously irate brother, all of them exhausted and barely hanging on, until John implicitly announced that he was coming to share the load. He felt his shoulders drop as some of the tension drained out of him; he might get through this after all. "Thanks, Johnny. See you there."

"FAB. Five out."

Gordon was still watching the hatch where Scott had disappeared moments earlier. Now he turned back to Virgil with anger and confusion warring in his eyes.

"What was that all about?"

Virgil sighed. "I think Allie scared the hell out of him out there, and he just needs some time to deal." He watched as Gordon's expression shifted to one of concern. "We'll be right behind him, Gordo. Why don't you grab that blanket? We'll get Allie the Acrobat tucked in, I'll get him a little pain relief, and then you can hang out here with him while I fly us home."

Between them, Alan stirred again, his brow furrowing in something like annoyance, though his eyes remained closed.

"Astronaut. Not acrobat."

Gordon grinned. "Whatever."


	3. Chapter 3

John's first stop upon arriving dirtside was the infirmary. He'd stayed on Five until he knew Scott was back on the island, and had even sent him updates from the scanners monitoring Alan, though Scott hadn't acknowledged them. He'd watched from the elevator as Two made her way home, and when he listened in, he could occasionally hear his younger brothers talking quietly in the med bay. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but it settled his nerves just to hear the weary voices. He still wanted to see them for himself, though.

He found Alan sitting up in one of the exam beds, wrapped in a blanket and sipping what John recognized as one of Brains' electrolyte supplements – vile tasting, he knew from personal experience, but they got the job done. Virgil was scanning his patient for probably the hundredth time and appeared to have knocked most of the dirt off of his uniform; the pile of muddy dive gear in the corner and the sound of the shower in the tiny attached bathroom located Gordon. Scott was nowhere to be seen, but he'd kind of expected that.

Ducking around Virgil, John sidled up to the bedside. "How you doing, Allie?"

"M'okay," the boy replied. He was clearly exhausted, his usual enthusiasm dampened by his injuries and too many days without decent rest. "You didn't have to come down."

John smiled. "'Course I did. I'm the only one who's not a giant mudball; I have to make sure you guys keep Grandma's floor clean."

"All good upstairs, John?" Virgil asked.

"Yeah, EOS is routing calls to GDF or local authorities; we're on emergency stand-down for the next 48 hours."

"You didn't come down too fast, did you?"

John resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I took my time, to reacclimate as much as I could. Besides, I think we're all going to sleep most of the next two days, anyway."

At that moment, the door to the bathroom opened, and Gordon emerged, scrubbing at his now clean, wet hair with a towel – and still wearing his wetsuit, which was, well, _wet_.

"Hey, Johnny," he greeted. Then he registered the fact that the other three were staring at him. "What?"

"You know, Gordon," Virgil began slowly, "most people undress _before_ they shower."

"Most people don't wear a wetsuit to work," the aquanaut shrugged, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. His eyes darted between his still-bemused brothers, and his hands dropped to his sides in consternation. "Seriously, guys – _what_?"

Satisfied that most of his brothers were acting like themselves, John set out to find the one who wasn't. Following the indicator on his wrist comm, he tracked Scott to the terrace outside the kitchen, sitting at the picnic table by the grill and staring into the distance. He had a bottle of beer set in front of him, and looked about as shattered as John had ever seen him. He had clearly cleaned up at some point, and was back in civilian clothes; his hair was nearly dry from the island wind.

Detouring to the fridge, John grabbed two bottles of water, setting one in front of Scott and moving the barely-touched beer bottle out of reach before taking a seat across from him. They were all too tired and dehydrated at this point for alcohol to be a good idea. Scott's eyes followed the beer as it moved away from him, but didn't try to stop it.

"So," John started carefully, "what's going on with you?"

Scott darted a glance his way and shifted in his seat. "What makes you think something's going on?"

John rolled his eyes. "Well, one of your brothers was injured on a rescue today, and you didn't stay on Two to make sure he was okay." Scott drew breath to interrupt, but John calmly cut him off.

"We both know I could have brought One back on remote, so that's not the reason. And now, that same brother is down in the infirmary, and you're here, instead of down there getting in Virgil's way. Which is totally not like you. So, I'll ask again: What's going on, Scott?"

He waited, watching Scott's face as he struggled to get his thoughts in order before he spoke. He wasn't surprised when the first words were somewhat defensive.

"You and Virg were right, okay? We should have stood down after the Amazon rescue and let the locals handle China. There wasn't even anyone there to rescue." He sighed. "I got tired, I got sloppy, and I got Alan hurt."

"You got stubborn," John corrected quietly. "But I do get where you were coming from. And you didn't get anybody hurt."

Scott finally looked at him full-on, his eyes narrowing as if he thought he was being humored. John leaned forward with his arms on the table between them, putting himself closer to his brother.

"Scott, I had EOS take another look at that hill before I came down. About twenty feet back from your position, and buried under a lot of debris, was a spring. Water source for the whole village, actually. The whole time you were standing there, it was pumping water into the ground beneath you. When Alan got there and added his weight to yours – that tipped the balance."

Scott blinked, looking away as he tried to assimilate this; and John added, "You know, there's no way you could have known this was going to happen. Hell, EOS didn't see it at the time, and she was scanning with infrared."

He watch Scott work his way through this, both of them absently sipping water. It was several minutes before Scott spoke again, and when he did, John almost didn't hear him.

"I lost him. I had his hand, and then I didn't, and he was just … gone. The look on his face, Johnny. I let him down."

"But he's fine, Scott," John insisted. "I was just down there. You should go see him. He's okay."

Scott suddenly stirred to life, leaning away from the table and, in the process, John's attempt to comfort.

"He's okay because Virg and Gordy kept their heads on straight," he spat. "I just sat there like a lump while they had to do my job."

"But that's what we do," John countered. "When one of us –"

"Screws up?" Scott's tone was bitter, but John shut him down with a look.

"I was_ going_ to say, 'needs to regroup,'" he corrected, "then somebody else is there to fill the gap. It's just … it's what we do."

Scott appeared to be trying to formulate a response to that; but at that moment, Virgil came shuffling wearily into the kitchen. Glancing around, he spotted his brothers and headed toward them. He was still in uniform, minus the green sash and most of his equipment, but had slipped his arms out of the sleeves and tied those around his waist, exposing a t-shirt that had been clean two days ago. He took a seat next to Scott and lowered his head to rest on the table for a moment before sitting back up.

"So, this is where the wiser, handsomer, more mature Tracys are hanging out this afternoon?"

Scott groaned. "Is it really only afternoon?"

"We've been in too many time zones lately."

"How's the patient?" John asked, mostly because he knew Scott might take forever to bring it up.

"He's good." Virgil gave a confident nod as he spoke. "We've got his vitals back where they need to be. He's exhausted – but who isn't? – he's sore … and being Alan, he says he's hungry." This got the small smile he was clearly hoping for from Scott. "Gordy's going to help him get changed, and then he's under orders to stay in bed until dinner's ready. Or lunch, or whatever. Hopefully, he'll fall asleep."

"Sleep sounds good," Scott observed after a moment.

"And food," added John.

"And a shower," was Virgil's contribution.

Scott drew a deep breath, and John was happy to see the confidence coming back into his oldest brother's eyes when he spoke. "Okay, how about if you guys go get changed and start on dinner, and I'll go check on Allie."

"Works for me," Virgil replied with a nod, as they all stood and stretched. "I think this calls for grilled cheese."

John smiled. "That sounds perfect." He and Virgil were somewhat famous for their post-mission grilled cheese.

As they started back into the house, Scott's steps slowed, and he reached out to catch at Virgil's shirt sleeve. Both younger brothers stopped with him, and he dropped his gaze for a moment before meeting Virgil's eyes.

"Look, Virg, I'm sorry. About today. I just kind of dumped everything on you –"

But Virgil was already waving him off. "Hey, Scott, no. I mean, I get it. If I had been in your shoes, and Allie … I can't even imagine."

Scott held his gaze a moment longer, then nodded. "Okay. Well, thanks, Virg, just … just thanks."

Virgil smiled warmly. "Any time. I mean, hey, it's what we do."

John saw Scott look up when Virgil echoed John's earlier words, and tried to control the smirk that threatened. From the look he got from Scott, though, he wasn't entirely successful.

Virgil clapped Scott on the shoulder. "Now, go see Allie."


	4. Chapter 4

When Scott arrived on the upper level, where the bedrooms were located, he spotted Gordon just leaving Alan's room at the other end of the hall. Gordon was still in uniform, though his dive gear was missing, and Scott was slightly surprised at how much cleaner his younger brother was, compared to when he had last seen him. He was considerably more surprised when Gordon approached him with a small, tired, fond smile and threw his arms around Scott.

He returned the embrace automatically, only then realizing how much he had needed it. He leaned into it for a moment, letting the last of the day's tension fall away. Gordon thumped his back twice, then released him, but only backed off enough to see his face.

"Hell of a day, huh?"

Scott nodded. "And then some. Is Alan asleep?"

Gordon threw a quick glance over his shoulder at the closed door. "Nah. Won't be long, though. Um, Grandma called." When Scott winced, he went on, "I guess she saw it on the news. It took both of us, but we convinced her not to come home early."

"Good job." Scott felt a pang of sympathy for their grandmother: if it were him, thousands of miles away, and one of his brothers were injured, he'd be anxious to get there, too. And he was sure some of the media outlets were making it sound worse than it was. But there really wasn't anything she could do if she were at home, and talking to Alan himself probably went a long way to setting her mind at ease.

Scott took a moment to study the brother in front of him. Though his hair and his wetsuit were clean, Gordon still looked as tired as Scott himself felt: his shoulders slumped, and there were dark circles beneath his eyes. But the usual spark of humor and affection that accompanied him wherever he went was still lurking under the surface, and Scott was suddenly beyond grateful that this young man, like the rest of his brothers, was a part of his life. He brought a hand up to cup the side of Gordon's face.

"You did good today, Gordo. Thanks for being there."

Gordon smiled and shrugged. "It's what we do."

Scott huffed out a laugh. "Yeah. So I've been told." Funny, that he could have forgotten. He reached up to squeeze Gordon's shoulder.

"Go get changed. Virg and John are making grilled cheese."

"Yes!" And the spring was back in his step as he dodged around Scott and headed for his own room.

Scott watched him go, then turned his attention to Brother Number Five. Rapping on said brother's door, he waited until a voice within called permission, then slipped inside.

Alan was sitting on the foot of his bed, dressed in a t-shirt and shorts and wrapped in a blanket, staring at something on the tablet in his hands. His shins and forearms were covered in bruises, there was a purpling lump just at his hairline, and his usual boundless energy was conspicuously absent. His right arm curled protectively close to his side, reminding Scott of his injured ribs. He started speaking before he even looked up.

"Gordy, I said I'd lie down in a minute. You don't have to –" he glanced up, recognized Scott, and immediately looked away, shutting down the tablet but continuing to fiddle nervously with it.

"Hi, Scott."

"Hi, Sprout." Scott took a couple steps closer, trying to catch Alan's eye. "Okay if I sit?"

Alan shrugged, but scooted over on the bed, still not looking up. Scott settled beside him and propped his elbows on his knees.

After a moment, Alan drew a deep breath.

"I know I messed up today," he began softly, "And I'm really sorry –"

Scott blinked. "Wh – Allie, how did you mess up?"

"I tied my line to that fence. I should have made sure it was stable. I mean, I thought it was, but I guess it wasn't …"

"Allie –"

"And then, when I started to fall, I almost took you with me. I tried to grab your hand; it was just instinct, but –"

"Alan, stop," Scott interrupted firmly, taking the tablet from the boy's hands and setting it behind them. "You didn't mess up. Remember, I double-checked that anchor point, and it looked solid to me, too. That's why we double-check each other. The conditions changed, and the hill just let go."

Alan was shaking his head, not ready to let himself off the hook yet. "But, I reached for your hand –"

Scott dropped a hand onto his brother's shoulder, turning the boy to face him, dislodging the blanket in the process. "Alan, buddy, I was reaching for you, too. And," he had to pause and swallow against the sudden tremor in his voice, "The fact that your first instinct, when you were in trouble, was to reach for me … well, that kind of means a lot to me."

"Oh." Alan's eyes darted away again, but he was clearly processing what his brother had said. After a moment, he looked hesitantly back up at Scott.

"So, you're not mad at me?"

"God, no," Scott replied, surprised. "Why would you think that?"

"I, um, kinda thought you were avoiding me or something. I haven't seen you since we got back."

"Oh, Sprout." Scott put his arm around his brother's thin shoulders and tucked him in close, mindful of his injuries.

"I wasn't mad, I was … ashamed." Alan tensed in his grasp, and he realized how that must have sounded, hastening to add, "Not of you, Al; never of you. Of myself."

Alan looked up at him, confusion all over his face. Scott drew a deep breath, preparing to go on. Compared to this, explaining himself to John and Virgil had been a walk in the park. But he knew Alan needed to know.

"When I saw you fall, I sort of, well, I panicked. You know, we usually come out of these things okay, but I thought, for just a minute, that fate had finally caught up with us or something. I pushed us into this rescue when we were all pretty much wiped out, you know? And I'm supposed to be the one with the plan, who stays calm and gets it done … all of a sudden, I couldn't make my brain work. Virg had to take over and get you out of there. And when I started getting myself back together, I felt like an idiot for not being able to act. And I was embarrassed, so I avoided you guys, which was the wrong thing to do."

He dared a sidelong glance at his brother beside him, and was surprised to see the corner of Alan's mouth turn up slightly, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

"So," the boy ventured carefully, "You basically acted like a normal human being."

Startled, Scott couldn't stop the laugh that escaped him at that. Relief washed over him at the realization that Alan's faith in his big brother was undamaged, and he used the arm around his brother's shoulder to pull him in closer and plant a quick kiss on his forehead.

"I'm glad you're okay, Allie," he whispered.

"Yeah, back atcha, bro," Alan replied with a slightly embarrassed smile.

Reluctantly, Scott relaxed his grip and sat back. "So, weren't you supposed to be resting until dinner's ready?"

"Yeah," Alan groaned, pushing himself upright and heading stiffly for the head of the bed.

Scott rose to mirror him on the opposite side and helped to pull the covers back. "Not sleeping on the floor this time?"

"Nah. I think I need something softer right now."

Scott helped him get settled, tucking the covers around him like a child and making Alan roll his eyes; then he leaned in and ran a hand through the boy's hair.

"Okay, kiddo, we'll let you know when din–"

"Um, Scott?" Alan interrupted shyly, "do you think you could hang out here? Just for a little while?"

Scott grinned. "You got it, Allie."

Half an hour later, Virgil tapped softly on Alan's door. Getting no response, he pushed the door open and peeked in. What he found had him shaking his head with a fond grin.

Alan lay on his back, tucked under his covers and clearly out for the count. Beside him, a sleeping Scott curled up on top of the bedspread, one arm protectively across his little brother's midsection.

Slipping into the room, Virgil scooped up the blanket that had been wrapped around Alan since they got him onto Two, however long ago that was, and draped it carefully over his older brother. He crept back to the door, paused … and pulled out his phone to take a couple of pictures, before turning off the light and making his escape.

He couldn't wait to show John and Gordon.


End file.
